


A Passable Existence

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Star Trek
Genre: AU, Kissing, M/M, Meet-Cute, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8057689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: "Hi, you'll do."





	A Passable Existence

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this post on tumblr](http://adenil-umano.tumblr.com/post/150368333235/awful-pickup-lines-edition-sentence-starters) and specifically adenil's tags: that the last on the list is very spones. had fun writing this, hope you enjoy! (also i wrote this with aos in mind but i couldn’t resist mentioning de’s tooth gap so?? read it as either or pretend karl urban has an adorable tooth gap like de??? whatever floats your boat friend)

“Hi, you’ll do.”

Spock has barely a moment to process the words and even less to realize two large, sturdy hands are gripping his shoulders before his lips are meeting the stranger’s in a wet and hurried gesture. The kiss is sloppy, messy, Spock’s too still and the stranger’s head isn’t titled quite right. His grip on Spock’s arms is tight to the point of pain but Spock feels frozen and unable to move; his hands clench and relax at his sides and his mind races as he absently kisses back.

He wonders what’s happening, who this person is—for a few thoughts, his mind drifts to wondering how he ended up here when all he’d wanted was a nice calm stroll through the evening. He wonders what the odd taste on the stranger’s lips is, fruity and sweet but not overwhelmingly so. He takes not of the stubble that scratches at his own chin and how the stranger is a single inch shorter than Spock himself.

The longer they kiss, the better it gets, which Spock considers nothing short of remarkable. Eventually the kiss dries enough not to feel slick and filthy, but it’s still electric and exciting. Spock’s lips warm to the stranger’s touch and he opens his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss, and is rewarded not only with the stranger’s tongue in his mouth but also a delighted noise from his new companion. The stranger’s tongue delves into Spock mouth and moves with purpose and intent, and Spock’s toes curl in his shoes. He breathes into the kiss, a barely-there moan that’s probably not even heard over the rest of the noise in the room.

The grip on his shoulders softens and eventually slides to his neck in a warm caress; in the same second, Spock’s own hands finally move and grasp at the stranger’s waist. Spock, for reasons he can’t discern and doesn’t honestly care about, immediately tugs the other man closer and gasps at the heat of their bodies colliding. Around them, the air is stuffy and hot from the other mingling couples in the club, ones that are grinding and dancing and drinking. Spock is only distantly aware of the suffocating, smoky air, though—he’s much more preoccupied with the feeling of lust settling in his gut and the desire to memorize the stranger’s mouth.

Eventually, the kiss breaks and a string of spit connects their lips until they’re apart just far enough for it to snap. Spock is breathing heavily and would feel embarrassed if his companion didn’t look much the same: flushed pink (human, then, not surprising) and just as short of breath. The stranger is grinning though, and Spock finds himself enamored with the small gap between the man’s front teeth. Spock’s hands twitch and he skirts his touch under the man’s shirt to feel the smooth skin of his hips.

“Sorry about that,” the man says, not sounding particularly sorry at all. If anything he shifts closer and his gaze flicks to Spock’s lips.

“I feel the need to assure you—there is no need to apologize.”

The man laughs, a gruff and rumbling noise. Spock can feel the tips of his ears burning green, the blush bleeding across his face and down his neck. He’s a bit ashamed of the relentless waves of lust rolling in his veins, but can’t bring himself to chase the emotions away.

“Well, good,” the man says. His hands still haven’t moved from Spock’s neck. “I saw my ex comin’ in looking like hell in high heels, and I needed a good hiding spot.”

Spock raises a single eyebrow. It earns him another laugh.

“You’re handsome and alone, figured it was worth a shot.” The man’s thumbs brush across the skin of Spock’s neck and send shivers through his body. “Name’s McCoy.”

“I am Spock.” Spock swallows, mouth suddenly dry, and is struck by the urge to kiss McCoy again. Before he can, McCoy speaks.

“Let me buy you a drink, Spock.” McCoy leans on the oak bar now, looking devilishly handsome and a touch awkward in the same breath. Spock finds it endearing.

So he nods. “I would like that.”

He’s rewarded with a bright grin.


End file.
